


light it up (burn it down)

by cielsdemon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, Pyromania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielsdemon/pseuds/cielsdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s kept a packet of matches in his breast pocket for as long as he can remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light it up (burn it down)

**Author's Note:**

> Remember those Eric and Grell fics I promised? They're coming, I swear. This is the first of many. We're stating out in gen territory but don't worry. We'll amp up the rating next time. Enjoy!

Fire has always fascinated him.

 

He’s kept a packet of matches in his breast pocket for as long as he can remember, certainly longer than he’s been smoking. Eric picked up that little habit from a man whose soul he claimed a decade ago. It’s more of a comfort than a habit, really. He likes the taste and feel of something warm and alive between his lips.

 

And fire…fire is alive. He knows it’s going to consume the building across from him and he can’t wait to witness the explosion of flames. Maybe it’s morbid of him to feel that way, but he deals in death on a daily basis – morbid is in the job description.

 

Maybe the job has warped him. Eric is slaughtering people and claiming souls to help his partner. He’d like to think of himself as a flame; burning through souls like they’re nothing, consuming them without a second thought.

 

But he knows that’s not true.

 

He has doubts; they don’t matter. Alan matters. Fire engulfs, and Eric’s going to make damn sure it burns through the thorns constricting his partner’s heart.

 

Eric takes a drawn out drag from his cigarette and blows smoke into the empty air in front of him. From his perch on the roof of the building across the street, he has the perfect view of the hotel he’s been assigned to monitor. Fifteen deaths are scheduled to take place within the next hour, but right now he’s playing the waiting game.

 

Another reaper is supposed to join him, but with all the overtime being passed around the office lately he’s not sure he’ll be getting a partner. Usually he’s paired up with Alan, but he’s on another assignment on the other side of London. Overtime’s a pain.

 

He’s taking another slow drag when he hears the clack of heels on concrete. “’Bout time you got here, man. We’re scheduled to start reaping in –“ He turns to find Grell Sutcliff grinning up at him and takes a surprised step back. “Sutcliff! Hell, you scared me.”

 

“Sorry, dearie,” Grell hums, waving cigarette smoke out of her face as she steps up beside Eric. She turns up her nose and frowns. “Ghastly habit, that. And so very mundane.” She thwacks Eric’s chest with one hand when he blows a stream of smoke straight into her face.

 

Coughing delicately into her fist, Grell gestures to the building across from them. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about it, certainly nothing that would suggest it’s about to fall to pieces. “So, what’s the job? I didn’t read the report – too boring.”

 

Eric rolls his eyes. “Dozen or so people are gonna kick it. Some kinda explosion on the ninth floor’s gonna crush the floor below.” If he’s lucky, during all the mayhem he’ll be able to nab a few souls for his own purposes, with Grell none the wiser.

 

Grell’s nose wrinkles. “I’m so tired of cleaning up messes,” she sighs, walking toward the edge of the rooftop.

 

“Oh yeah, weren’t you and the kid assigned to that cruise ship case? Old Undertaker’s finally lost it completely, eh?”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Grell groans. “I can’t understand his _obsession_ with human life. It’s honestly quite dull, isn’t it?” She peers down at the street below them. “Killing them is much more exciting.”

 

Eric’s eyes widen slightly and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Killing them?” He prays his voice isn’t strained. No one knows what he’s doing and he’d like to keep it that way.

 

Grell spins to face him, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Yes, darling. I was Jack the Ripper, remember?” She sighs wistfully, as if remembering a past lover. If the rumors are true, she may very well be doing so. “Such a lovely time that was.” Her face morphs into the picture of repentance. “I’m very remorseful though, dear, of course. Don’t go tattling to William.”

 

Eric snorts, off the hook for now. “’Course not. Can’t have ‘im ruining the fun.”

 

“Ooh.” Grell shivers, dancing across the rooftop so she can lean against Eric’s chest. “You’re not a stick in the mud, are you, Eric? You’ve enjoyed a little bloodshed, I can tell. What’s your favorite part, hm?”

 

Eric averts his eyes with a scoff. “Who says I ‘ave?” Grell’s gloved fingers prod at his cheek. He glances down at her and sighs when she refuses to back away “Fine, okay. I might’ve found some enjoyment in cuttin’ down a couple of bodies. Nothing like you though, you wretch.”

 

Grell purrs. “Oh, insult me again, love. It gets me all fired up.” Eric rolls his eyes.

 

“The blood is my favorite part,” Grell says, spinning away. Her hair twirls around her like a second red coat. “Cold skin just dripping with pretty red… Such a delightful sight, don’t you think?”

 

Eric shakes his head, huffing out a breath of smoke. “I dunno about that. I’d rather just get it over with, to be honest.” He lies to protect himself, to protect Alan.

 

“Ugh, how boring!” Grell frowns at him. “And here I was thinking you and I were one and the same.” She sighs and tosses her hair over her shoulders.

 

She’s like a fire, he thinks. Burning bright, flitting from person to person, body to body, and cutting down anything or anyone that gets in her way.

 

If only she knew how similar they really were. For a moment, he entertains the idea of telling her what he’s doing. For a moment, he thinks maybe he can have an ally through this ordeal. Someone to share the load with.

 

For a moment… 

 

Across the street, the hotel they’re watching explodes, sending glass and flames shooting from every window on the ninth floor. As they watch, that floor collapses in on itself and debris bursts from the building, showering the street below.

 

Eric can’t look away. His surprise at the explosion melts away into satisfaction as the building burns and the screaming starts. The fire burns bright and hot. It darts from shattered windows and licks at the walls of the hotel until they crumble. Beautiful. This is exactly the sight he was hoping to see.

 

Eric drags his eyes away from the flames when he hears the revving of the motor on Grell’s chainsaw. She’s standing on the edge of the roof, wind whipping through her hair and flames dancing in the reflection of her spectacles.

 

When their gazes meet, he catches a glimpse of a knowledge in Grell’s eyes that makes him falter, positive he’s been found out and that this is the end. But Grell only grins at him, that same wicked gleam back in her eye. “Ready?”

 

He nods, and together they jump from the rooftop to reach their goal.

 

Maybe Eric has an ally after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join us on [tumblr](http://cielsbitch.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
